


You Could Never Look Like Shit

by asterias_star



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, Sick Grantaire, Sickfic, Soft Enjolras (Les Misérables)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-06
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-19 09:02:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29872305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asterias_star/pseuds/asterias_star
Summary: Grantaire's sick and Enjolras is concerned
Relationships: Enjolras/Grantaire (Les Misérables)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 44





	You Could Never Look Like Shit

**Author's Note:**

> This is rushed cause I had a vauge idea and I needed for fluff :D I don't think I'll ever right anything else

A loud knock on his bedroom door makes Grantaire wake with a jump, his limbs sore and aching as he leans back into his stiff bed.

"Come in," he expects Joly, since he texted him and knows he has a key. Maybe Courfeyrac? If Joly was busy he'd for sure tell Courf.

His phone dings and he checks it to see a text from Courfeyrac but before he can read it his door opens and in comes golden hair and piercing blue eyes.

"Enjolras?" His blurry eyes can still make out his unique shape, and the red coat he always wears helps. Grantaire's cheeks grew red and his stomach churned. He didn't want Enjolras here "What're-"

"Why didn't you tell me?" Grantaire imagines it was meant to be harsh but it came out light and filled with concern.

"Tell you what?" He means to say but with his pounding head and scratchy throat it comes out "tel yu wha?" 

"That you're sick," Enjolras says as if Grantaire's slurred painful words were crystal clear. 

He wanted to respond but he felt like shit so he shrugged, shoulders saggy and hunched right after.

"Corf told me you weren't feeling well. I had to come check on you, and seeing how bad you look it's a good thing I did. I brought these," Enjolras rumbles around in his bag before pulling out headache medicine. Grantaire can't remember the name. He probably didn't read it, just blindly followed Enjolras's command like he's used to. He trusts Enjolras.

Enjolras gives him a metal water bottle. Grantaire coughs right after taking it, drinking the water that seemed eager to flow down his throat. How much did Enjolras fill it? To the top? "Sorry I look shit," he sighs and takes another drink. "Or more than normal," he replies with a clearer throat. It still comes out raspy, but it's better.

"You never look shit," He hears Enjolras mumble and he thinks his cheeks are red but his hazy mind probably wasn't seeing right. "I just meant you look miserable,"

"Astute observation,"

Enjolras didn't say anything, he continued digging through his backpack.

He pulled out a thermometer and ran it over Grantaire's burning forehead. "101" Enjolras shows him the small screen while gently petting his hair back.

"What else feels bad?"

Grantaire couldn't help but feel woozy at Enjolras concerned eyes and his soft hand. He leaned into the touch, hoping he could blame it on his sickness.

"Throat. Stomach. Arms. Everything." 

"Are you hot? Cold? Hungry?"

It takes a while for Grantaire to respond, to focused on the long nails lightly tracing his scalp.

"Too hot," he murmured with closed eyes. He felt Enjolras' hand leave his hair and his head followed after it, missing the pressure on his pounding head.

"You're wearing sweatpants and a hoodie, no wonder," Enjolras says after moving the blankets off his lap. "Where's your shorts?" 

Grantaire wishes he could be witty but his mind is mush and all he can manage is a quick point to the second drawer on his dresser.

He pulls out gym shorts and a tank top. "Can you change?"

Grantaire nods fast, he can do that. Even if he couldn't he'd rather melt then have Enjolras see him without clothing. 

Enjolras nods and places the clothes on the beds end. "I'll go heat up some soup,"

"I don't have any,"

"I brought some,"

"You brought a lot of stuff,"

"Courfeyrac told me things you might need. Brought everything I could."

Grantaire can't stare at Enjolras's caring eyes for one bit longer, so he doesn't. He looks at the clothes by his feet.

"Get dressed please," Enjolras leaves his bedroom, closing the door as quietly as he could, leaving Grantaire by himself.

He takes a minute to reflect on why Enjolras is here. Is he dreaming? No, it feels too real to be a dream. Or maybe he's dead and Enjolras really  _ is _ an angel and offered to take care of him in an afterlife. So maybe he is in heaven?

One look at his run down room and a whiff of the weird stench from his neighbors apartment makes him decide he's in hell instead.

But if Enjolras is here it could never truly be hell. So he settles for  _ maybe _ he's alive and Enjolras is bored.

He throws on the clothes as fast as he can, which isn't very fast because it hurts to move his arms and his head won't stop pounding.

He throws himself in the bed as soon as he finishes, which probably isn't a good idea because his head slams against the pillows.

"Shit," he sighs and closes his eyes. His eyelids are heavy and crusty. He really wants to sleep, but with Enjolras in the other room his mind is active, wanting to see him desperately. He can't stand for him to be so far but so close.

Enjolras comes back in a few minutes later, a bowl in hand. "Did you drink more water?"

"No," he answers honestly. Was he supposed to drink more?

"Courfeyrac told me you should stay hydrated. So um, please drink more,"

Grantaire keeps his eyes closed, giving a gentle hum and taking deep breaths.

"Why isn't Courfeyrac here? Are him and Joly both busy?"

Enjolras purses his lips, not that Grantaire could see. His cheeks are pink as he answers "I told him I'd take care of you,"

Grantaire feels himself go red faced at the sincerity of his voice. "I'm glad you did," and he means it. 

He waits a few beats before sitting up with an exhausted sigh. "I bought chicken noodle. Im- you said you liked it before, so I hope it's alright," Enjolras stammers, hoping he remembered correctly.

It's not alright because Grantaire's heart might just explode. He smiles and takes the bowl.

Enjolras stands as he eats, which is weird. Grantaire has no chairs in his room, and Enjolras is fiddling with his jacket absentmindedly.

"Come here," Grantaire pats the bed beside him.

Enjolras looks at his face, his fingers halting on his sleeve before giving a gentle nod, kicking off his shoes and jacket.

"Thank you," Grantaire takes the spoon to his lips. "For being here. And looking after me." His mouth opens to speak more, but the words are lost as he feels embarrassment snake around his already warm neck.

"There's nothing else I'd rather do,"

Grantaire almost spits at that sentence. It seems so romantic and personal, but he figures he means it as a friendly gesture and continues to eat his soup.

Enjolras keeps looking at his arms, he thinks, but he isn't sure because his poor sick mind has been playing tricks on him all day, but he can't help but ask "is there something on my arm?" Maybe there's a big bruise there he doesn't know about. It's happened before. He gets lots of mysterious bruises.

Enjolras shakes his head 'no' quickly before averting his eyes. He doesn't catch Enjolras looking at him again.

His head hurts less now, but when he thinks about Enjolras playing with his tangled curls he feels the ghost of their touch and he wants to feel it again. "Could you-" the words come out before he thinks about them. He regrets it now that Enjolras is looking at him, prepared to do whatever. It makes him swallow. 

"Um, rub my head? It um, you don't-" He can't even speak. He feels embarrassed again but Enjolras doesn't wait for him to finish before his fingers are running lightly through his hair.

"Do you get sick a lot?" Enjolras asks, gently pushing Grantaire head on his shoulder.

"Occasionally. I guess once a year usually," he places the now empty bowl on a nightstand and grabs the metal cup, remembering to drink more. For Enjolras.

"Have you been vaccinated?"

"Oh shit,"

"You haven't?"

"No, I keep forgetting. My mom didn't let me get vaccinated when I was younger, so I'm not used to it,"

"Make an appointment soon, okay?"

Grantaire nods and takes a sip of his water. His insides feel so jittery and warm laying against Enjolras, feeling his fingers twist around his hair, hearing his soft breaths. It feels domestic and he wonders how could no one tell him Enjolras was so nice to his friends when sick. It's worth the pain.

"Why are you here?" The words meant to stay in his head rushed out. He doesn't even know why he thought it. He knows the answer. Enjolras is a good friend. He  _ just _ said that.

Enjolras stay silent for a while, Grantaire almost thinks he's not going to speak.

"Because I care about you," he answers simply. 

"I can't imagine you care that much to come in place of Courfeyrac," Damn he needs to be quiet. He was content with the answer, but the small holes his brain picks apart make him want a clearer understanding and his ill mind makes his mouth start running.

"I.." Enjolras trails off. Grantaire can hear his heartbeat pick up slightly. "I  _ really _ care about you, Grantaire,"

And that's when Grantaire's own pulse skyrockets and his wrists feel weak. He turns around, slowly because his head still hurts, and looks the blonde God in his eyes. "I really care about you too, you know," he doesn't know why he turns around, he doesn't know why he's looking him in the eyes. All he knows is that it feels right.

"Can i- can I kiss you?" The question makes Grantaire's knees weak and he's surprised. His brain wants to say yes, of course.

"No," his mouth takes over instead and Enjolras flushes a bright red as he flinches. He stares eyes wide and he's opening his mouth to speak but the words get caught in his throat. "I can't- you can't get sick. Not cause of me,"

Grantaire can see the relief flush through Enjolras body, the way his tense shoulders relax and his posture softens. He laughs, his hand grabbing at Grantaire's tank top. 

"I'm pretty sure I'm already going to get sick. It'll change nothing,"

Grantaire smiles all giddy like and kisses Enjolras softly. It was a quick peck, that's all it meant to be. But as he pulls away Enjolras pushes him back in, stealing a few more seconds of air. 

"I guess it's obvious but I really like you," Enjolras whispers close to his lips. 

"It actually isn't,"

"Oh," he pecks his lips again "that any clearer?"

"A little," Grantaire smiles at Enjolras. He can't help but kiss him again, loving the clash of his chapped lips against the smooth pair happily kissing him back.

"Let's go out. On a date. When you feel better. Coffee? Dinner? Whatever you want,"

"Let's have a date right here? Watch a movie together?" He says too quickly. It's stupid, he was going to add before Enjolras adds

"That's perfect,"

And now they're leaning against each other, watching a movie for their first date. Grantaire doesn't think Enjolras is playing attention, but he doesn't care because he isn't either. 

Enjolras plays with his hair again and it's perfect, Enjolras is perfect. He feels like shit but tonight is perfect. 

"Enjolras," he speaks and the Blonde looks at him immediately. "I really like you too," he adds in the silence and they kiss again.

He looks at his phone when he hears a ding.

  


2:43 **Joly** :  _ is Courf there yet? _

  


12:02  **Courfeyrac** :  _ you're welcome :D  _

**Author's Note:**

> I'm getting a bunch of migraines again so the wanting of people to rub my head has been heightened, can you tell??
> 
> Have a good day <3


End file.
